Strange Creatures of Dubious Lineage
by UmiUmiSumi
Summary: In this story, we meet a very different Bennet family, and follow a Mr Darcy who finds himself intrigued with the strange creature that is Miss Elizabeth.


Hello fanfiction world! A few words before going forward...

I have been wanting to write this story for probably five years now, but I have been stymied by a number of things, not the least of which has been the birth of my children, but also a desire to be too perfect in my period accuracy and diction. Recently, I've decided that perhaps it's best to get the story 'exorcised' over being overly fastidious, as I do not have the time I once did for writing, let alone research. I hope, in the event that I complete this story, I could seek the help of some more knowledgeable writers to help me refine the story, but for now, I will try to simply enjoy creating this story, and I ask a bit of forgiveness from my readers for many 'errors' that may occur in this story, as well as potential gaps between chapter publishing.

Strange Creatures of Dubious Lineage - Chapter 1

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife," a young man of no more than two-and-twenty years read aloud to his friend who was standing contemplatively at the large window that looked out onto the estate grounds.

"Pardon me, but have you been spending too much time around your sisters that you have taken to spouting lines that should have come from silly women's books, Bingley?" he replied to his friend with a sidelong glance over his shoulder before he saw that he was, in fact, reciting from one of those same books that lay open on the table next to him. "I see," he added, and began to walk to his friend to see closer exactly what sort of trash he was peeking at.

"I just happened to see it laying open," the first said back to the second, "One of Caroline's, I believe. I thought you would find that line amusing, Darcy."

Bingley grinned his wide and unassuming smile at his friend, tickled by the single-mindedness of women's literature, though Darcy did not seem as amused. His dark eyes held a well-practiced look of ever-enduring, wearied condescention, as befit his station in life, that belied the irritation he felt at the sentiment expressed by the literature. Mr. Bingley handed the book to his friend when the other gentleman had gestured to have a look.

"Yes... indeed..." Mr. Darcy muttered, flipping through the pages casually as he sat in the chair next to Mr. Bingley, "nothing I have not heard before, as much as it wearies me to be reminded that this is the single goal that young women have – to ensnare a husband. And this book suggests using the most devious subterfuge and manipulation to achieve such a goal."

"It is Caroline's book after all," Bingley replied with a knowing look to his friend. This did elicit the smallest break of humor in Darcy's face, fleeting though it was.

"You do realize that the entire neighborhood will be awash of likeminded young women all undoubtledly aware of your worth and single status, propelled further by their mothers who live for nothing more than marrying off their daughters to the highest bidder? This will not be like in Town; you are now a large fish in a large, but poorly-populated, and dare I say, low society pond. You must watch yourself," Mr. Darcy warned him, speaking through the wisdom of his advanced five years above his friend, and a much more cynical view of the world.

"Yes, yes," Bingley nodded, trying his hardest to take his friend's advice to heart while his own optimism and good-natured personality wanted to take no stock in Mr. Darcy's words of doom. "But it is all so friendly in the country! I have received no fewer than twenty callers to welcome me to the neighborhood and establish their acquaintance, and more meal invitations than I have been reasonably able to accept. You cannot say this is all under the pretense of recommending their daughters," he paused to take stock of Darcy's reaction: his friend's angular chin was jutted forward and eyes doubtful, saying nearly aloud that he believed his friend to be naive. "And what does it matter if I do find myself in the acquaintance of a few young women? I'm an eligible bachelor and I would not be opposed to possibly finding a woman whom I might wish to marry."

"And thus, it was proved that the women's book is correct..." Darcy said almost with a sigh, and lit a cigar in defeat, taking a slow drag and snorting the smoke out through his nostrils. "Just... try and discern from whomever this lady is that she loves you at least as much as she loves your money."

"Always the black cloud, Darcy. Come now, you know that I trust your opinion, and you will be at the ball tonight to 'watch out' for me, as it were."

"Yes, and I shall be there for no other reason beside that I am your friend and confidant," he replied dryly.

"Who knows, perhaps some lively country maiden will catch your eye tonight?" Bingley cried with a nudge at Darcy's elbow.

"In the spirit that all things under God are possible, perhaps, but I find it infinitely improbable that there is any woman in this whole county unique enough to merit a second glance."

The rest of the afternoon continued without further mention of gold-digging girls and of women's advice books. Instead, it turned to the buzz of preparing the Netherfield party for the night's ball at the Meryton assembly hall, though for Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley's sisters there was much less attention to detail with their apparel as there would have been had this been an event in London or if there had been any people of consequence in attendance. In spite of this, they were still quite the spectacle upon their arrival, and though the society was beneath them, the two sisters still swelled with pride at the attention and paraded about the room as queens amongst the peasantry.

Bingley, to his credit, was as amiable as he was in any society that was lively and in a mood for merry-making, and thought he was not often given to great introspection, it was never lost upon him that he was not truly of the landed gentry and had no right or reason to see himself as particularly superior to most anyone, unlike his sisters, and had instantly made the acquaintance of a number of the local personalities. Mr Darcy took this as opportunity, and stayed within his friend's close orbit to the point that he was not put upon much at all to make an acquaintance or carry a conversation much further than one-word responses. They soon found themselves under the garrulous care of Sir William Lucas, head of one of the more prominent local families, and who saw himself as a sort-of honorary mayor when it came to these public assemblies, though the village itself was too small to have such need for governance.

"Welcome, welcome my good sirs! It's a pleasure to make your honored acquaintances! My Lady and I pride ourselves on being well informed of the neighborhood and its goings on, and should you need any introductions, advice, or even for the ladies in your party, a bit of the local gossip, we are quite at your service," Sir William said to both Bingley and Darcy at their first introduction.

"The pleasure is all mine, surely! I'm sure we will take advantage of your kindness, Sir William," Bingley effused, his smile broad and genuine.

From here, Sir William then took it upon himself to give a detailed account to the two men about the families present at the assembly, including such details as to whom the prominent families of the neighborhood were, the relations, their income, and especially any juicy details that he could think on. Mr Darcy, while finding this extensive information droll and the storytelling that came from Sir William to be circuitous and difficult to follow, did make his own quiet sport of watching his friend struggle visibly on one hand with his politeness, on the other, his difficulty in keeping his attention on anything that was remotely boring. Finally, as Sir William came to a bit of a pause as he finished telling the tale of Miss Penelope Harrington's questionable paternity, Mr Bingley's eyes were taken by a willowy blond in a cornflower blue gown across the hall from them and quickly redirected the older man's attention to her, asking about her.

"Oho, I see you have good taste, Mr Bingley! That young lady is the crown jewel of our local beauties, Miss Jane Bennet, the eldest of the four Bennet sisters. Would you like me to ask if you could make her acquaintance?"

"Yes, I certainly would! Darcy, would you like to come along?" Mr Bingley asked, excited to not only have some action to take, but also at the prospect of having an introduction to this country beauty that he was becoming more and more entranced by each time he looked at her.

"No, I'll leave your introduction uninterrupted," Darcy said, his affect flat and appearance bored. His friend shrugged and walked off with Sir William. Mr Darcy stood, arms crossed and partially in the shadow of a pillar, resigned to wait out the evening in as much solitude as possible, and questioning the wisdom of his decision to accompany Bingley to Hertfordshire in the wake of all of the stress and worry that the events of the summer had brought upon him. While not taken to being the most socially able of men, he was in no mood to socialize, especially among the low-bred society to be found in the country. His glowering countenance had been enough to steer the locals from introducing themselves to him, it did not stop Caroline Bingley from arriving at his side with a glass of punch and a mouthful of gossip.

"How insufferable it must be for you to be stuck here in this," she said to him, gesticulating a gloved hand at the Meryton society dismissively.

"I have enjoyed myself less, but not much," he quipped, taking a sip of the bright red drink, which he discovered to be much stronger than to his liking and set it down.

"I have ascertained most of the interesting things to tell about the local gentry, and sadly, it is all quite as dull and common as I had warned Charles it would be out here. I do wish that he could have been persuaded to find an estate to let in Derbyshire; the society there must be more refined and interesting than this barnyard," she looked to Darcy, who was still staring out into the crowd. He said nothing.

Unable to lure Mr Darcy into more conversation, she observed her brother engaged in talk with a gently smiling young woman; while she was not worried at this point of his forming an attachment to one of these undesirables, she also did not wish for there to be any in the future if she could do anything to help it.

"I see Charles has found Miss Jane Bennet. Did Sir William speak of them to you?" Caroline asked with a sly smile.

"No, thankfully."

"Well, I have heard a bit about them in the last day, and quite a bit more since we arrived — they have been one of the more diverting topics!" She went on regardless of any encouragement from her company, "Miss Jane Bennet is the eldest of four sisters, and regarded as quite the local beauty, and while her youngest sister is of a similar quality, not as much can be said of the middle. I have not much hope for their breeding, as their mother has allowed all four girls into society at once, and the youngest I hear are quite wild."

"Unfortunate, but not uncommon. I fail to see anything of interest in this family," Mr Darcy finally replied, watching as Miss Bennet introduced Mr Bingley around the room to various young ladies, two exuberant young blondes he assumed to be her sisters.

"Oh, that is just the beginning. Their father, the master of Longbourn estate, is regarded as a true eccentric. He is a man of science in the Royal Society, rarely makes appearances in local society, and spends his days either in London or in his study at Longbourn with his eldest daughters in tow," she said in just above a whisper.

"Still, not terribly interesting."

"Rumor has it," she went on, undeterred, "the current Mr Bennet is of dubious lineage." She paused; Darcy looked sideways at her, and she went on triumphantly. "Old Mr Bennet, who is of three generations ago, had but one son, whom he had a falling-out from, and the son set sail abroad to the colonies, but his ship was lost in a squall. And then, five and twenty years ago, arrives the current Mr Bennet, claiming that old Mr Bennet's son had not perished in a storm, but had made it to the American lands and had set a comfortable living there, and that he was the grandson that Old Mr Bennet had never known existed."

"That is rather hard to believe," Mr Darcy mused, further watching Charles across the room, where he was now speaking with a plain woman and a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman.

"It is truly diverting, is it not? But still, that is not the end of the Bennet household intrigue! While Young Mr Bennet is old news and married into the local society, just last spring, as out-of-the-blue as his own appearance had been, Mr Bennet returns from London with a young woman claiming to be his niece come from America! He claims that he and his elder brother, whom he had never spoken of, also had a falling-out, and had cut ties before he left for England. They recently began to correspond again and that his brother was sending his daughter, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, to live in Hertfordshire and find her future prospects amongst the gentry here. Apparently this caused quite an uproar in his own house, as neither his wife nor daughters had been appraised of this plan prior to the young lady's arrival."

Mr Darcy's response would have to wait, as the musicians began to tune their instruments, and the master of ceremonies called down the first dance. Mr Darcy first danced with Mrs Hurst, then Miss Bingley, where she inquired after his thoughts on her story about the Bennets.

"'Tis truly the stuff of women's novels, that is to be sure," he said as they made their steps in the dance, "and it makes me wonder at the embellishments that may have been put forward to you. It may do you good not to believe every tall tale in a country setting."

"These facts have been corroborated by no less than three unrelated people," Caroline hissed, displeased that her dubious tale was being doubted. "I know not what to make of such a family, but it only brings to mind things that are not good, though it does give me temptation to further ascertain the truth."

"If you feel that nothing good is to come of it, then why try to know?"

They passed through partners at this point, and for a few seconds, he found himself partnered with the olive-skinned woman, whom he found moved a bit hesitatingly through the dance steps, and when he looked at her, she would not meet his gaze. Though she looked away he was struck by her dark eyes, finely shaped and raised at the corners, almost feline. Caroline returned to his hand in another heartbeat and they returned to their conversation.

"That was her!" She whispered emphatically, "you just passed Miss Elizabeth. Is she not a strange creature?"

After this, the dance ended, and Mr Darcy begged Miss Bingley to leave off with the conversation lest they be heard, as it was not going in a very polite direction. As intrigued as he was, his foul mood was still upon him, and so he returned to his spot by the pillar, and deciding that some strong punch wasn't perhaps a bad idea, stood sipping his drink in silence.

During the break before the second set of the evening began, Mr Bingley returned to his friend, who was now into his second cup, and while he could feel the drink in his head, it had done nothing to improve his mood. Bingley urged him to dance, as he was rather enjoying himself, and it had been brought to his attention by Miss Bennet that there were not enough men dancing and that a number of girls were having to sit out from dancing. Darcy declared his disdain for dancing with strangers, and implied that the local women were not pleasing to be near.

The conversation then turned to Miss Bennet, to which Bingley effused with her praises, not only in her appearance (an angel!), but her voice (soft and sweet!), and her composure (divinely serene!). Mr Darcy had seen his friend taken with a woman before, but this time he was much further along in his infatuation much sooner than he had seen prior. Feeling oddly about the Bennet clan due to Caroline's gossip, the prospect of having to deal with them more intimately due to Bingley's interest fouled his already foul temper.

"Come now, Miss Bennet's cousin is quite pretty in her own way, and she is sitting just over there. Let me ask her to introduce you, I'm sure she will make a pleasing partner," Mr Bingley pleaded, unaware of how much more annoyed Mr Darcy had become.

Darcy looked over his shoulder to where Bingley had noted the cousin, and for but a brief moment, his eyes locked with those perfectly formed dark eyes, and sensing some internal conflict, he gave in to his irritation. "She is tolerable enough, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me," he shrugged. "I am in no mood to pay consequence to foreigners slighted by other men."

The venom in his voice surprised himself, and Bingley looked at him with no little amount of shock. Too caught in the hole he was digging himself, he glanced back to the object of his derision to see that her affectation had become flat and she stood from where she sat and walked away to the refreshment table. "Return to your pretty Miss Bennet, you are wasting your time here."

Mr Bingley found himself at a loss to a proper rejoinder to his friend, and so did as he had been asked. As soon as Bingley had left him, the stubborn self-righteous feeling that had overtaken Darcy dissipated and he immediately regretted his cruelty. He vowed to apologize to Bingley when they returned to Netherfield, and looking for Miss Elizabeth Bennet he hoped that she hadn't actually heard him after all. He spied her speaking animatedly and laughing with a friend of hers, the plain one, and assumed that all was well. Blaming too much punch, he again set down his cup and left his post by the pillar to seek fresh air that he hoped would clear his head.

What next happened he would not soon forget:

As he strode with purpose towards an open door to the open air porch, out of the corner of his eye he saw Miss Elizabeth again, holding a very full glass in her left hand. She was walking towards him, but her eyes focused elsewhere when she suddenly turned and her arm and his chest collided to leave him covered from cravat to trousers in cold, red punch.

"Oh, my! What have I done?!" Miss Elizabeth exclaimed as all eyes were on the dripping wet Mr Darcy. He gasped at the coldness, and looked up to glare at the girl in front of him, who was clutching her hands with the empty glass to her face. Yet for that moment, before anyone had brought napkins to his aid and the cleaning had begun, he perceived a satisfied smirk in her eyes, hidden behind her hands and her concerned exclamations.

"How horribly careless of me, please, I'll find some clear water and more napkins," she went on, this time no longer looking his way, her friend scolding her for not paying attention to where she had been going with so full a glass.

"No, I am well; we were soon to leave at any rate," he found himself saying, unable to express his indignation in front of the entire assembly. A servant presented him with more napkins which he used to dry himself as best he could. And while he could not make such an accusation in polite company, he knew: this had not been an accident. The Bingleys and Hursts still engaged in dancing, he sulked outside to sit in the carriage alone, defeated.


End file.
